


The Individual

by HappyHypocrite



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxious!Evan, Background Original Characters Because Normal Schools Have More than Five Students, Connor’s Alive! Yay!, Depressed!Connor, Depressed!everyone, Depression, Drama, Dramatized School Environment, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Frequently Updated (every day when possible), Getting Arrested, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, No Romanticized Mental Disorders Here, Not smut but really hekin close, Ratings May Change Depending on Content, Slow Burn, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Treebros, Underage Drinking, convan, friends to relationship, galaxygals, zolana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyHypocrite/pseuds/HappyHypocrite
Summary: You control your life, why not change something with it?Edit: PLEASE READ ALL TAGS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS STORY. THIS IS POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT. SPECIFIC WARNINGS ARE POSTED IN THE “Notes” SECTION OF EVERY CHAPTER. STAY SAFE.





	1. A Bold Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping.
> 
> **WARNING**  
> Vomit >:P  
> The “School shooter” line

His heart pounded wildly in his chest.

 

“Loving the new hair length.”

The pack leaders voice, drenched with sarcasm. People had already begun to gather, some stopping dead in their tracks to snicker and gawk.

 

Connor Murphy.

Evan knew the name, he’d heard stories, the whispering of students as he passed their conversations.

 

Part of him admired Jared’s boldness, however similar it may’ve been to foolishness.

 

“Very, school shooter chic.”

Connor froze, Evan watched his knuckles burn white in the effort to keep them clenched.

 

“Honestly, with a freak like you I wouldn’t be surprised.” He added nonchalantly.

 

Connor took a step toward Jared, glaring threateningly.

“Say that again, I dare you.”

He was practically growling, Evan suddenly became aware of the height difference between Jared and his victim, Connor stood taller, looking down on Jared’s sneer with a burning hatred.

 

“You deaf as well? Freak?”

 

The crowd fell silent, tense.

 

Connors face twisted into a snarl.

 

An opening, Evan shoved down every warning his conscious screamed in protest. If he thought too much he’d never get a word out.

 

“Stop Jared.”

He spoke, a false impudence bursting in his tone.

 

Jared seemed shaken for a moment, before the expression was replaced with disgust.

 

“So now you’re defending this creep? Just last week you couldn’t order a pizza without breaking down, suddenly you’re Mr.Confidence? You’re pathetic.”

 

A few in the crowd broke into laughter. 

 

He couldn’t breathe, his knees shook, he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from following suit. They grew uncomfortably warm.

 

He couldn’t think, couldn’t find the words. He’d been living in a bubble for years, it’s been a long time since he was put on the spot.

 

“I said,”

Evan spat,

“Stop. Go find someone else’s day to ruin.”

 

Wow, another sentence, he was on a roll. 

Evans heart hadn’t stopped beating faster than he could blink.

 

He drew a shaky breath, reminding himself he could breathe.

 

“You’re lucky I’ve got more important shit to do than to deal with you, tree-fucker.”

 

With that and a smug smile, Jared turned on his heel and left, disappearing into the background.

 

The students who’d gathered in the hall looked to Evan for a response.

 

Evan felt bile rise in his throat.

He ran.

The last face he saw was Connors, irradiating anger and confusion.

 

As Evan weaved through the mass of students hurrying like mice to their classes, the distinct taste of stomach acids gathered in the back of his throat.

Tears brimmed his eyes, his vision blurring.

 

He shoved the door to the boys washroom with his arm, slipping his bag to his forearm and dropping it inside a stall.

 

He had just enough time to lock the stall door before he was kneeling by the toilet bowl, violently retching as he emptied whatever remained in his stomach from yesterday. He felt as if his lungs were being pulled through his esophagus. His throat ignited into flames. He spat vomit from his mouth. Hot tears tracked down his face.

 

Choking and dry heaving into the bowl, his head swayed from the effort, black blots decorating his vision.

 

“Uh..”

Someone’s voice spoke timidly, breaking Evan from his thoughts.

 

“Are you.. okay? In there? I have water and stuff.”

 

Evan couldn’t speak, he forced the air through him,

“Yeah,”

He croaked,

“I mean,” he coughed, “It’s, I’m good,”

 

 

“Could you open the door anyway?”

 

Evan nodded, realizing the boy couldn’t see him, he reached for the latch.

 

“Jesus..”

 

Evan flinched.

 

The boy crouched next to him, Evan let his head lull against the cold metal divider.

 

The boy slipped his bag from his back, reaching inside and pulling out an orange water bottle, decorated with an assortment of stickers, he handed it to Evan.

 

Evan pulled at he cap, twisting it left and right to no avail.

 

The boy chuckled softly,

Evans face burned

“Here,” he reached for the bottle, taking it with care into his hands.

 

He pushed on the lid before turning it left, it opened with a satisfying ‘pop’.

 

Evan mumbled in thanks and took the bottle, taking a tentative sip.

 

Evan eyed the boy warily, head full of reasons why accepting a drink from a stranger could go wrong.

 

The boy was average, average height, average face, brown eyes, brown hair.

 

Not to say he wasn’t nice looking, Evan could admit his mussed hair and rounded nose made him sort of attractive.

 

His face was littered with faded acne scars, when he smiled, a single dimple appeared, which Evan found endearing.

 

Oh, apparently the boy had been talking for a while now.

 

“...so, yeah, anyway, I’m uh, James, hi.”

 

Evan blinked,

“I’m Hansen, Evan, just— Evan.Hansen’s my last name, and, hey.”

 

James let out that soft laugh again.

 

Evan felt his face burn.

 

“So I saw what you did, I mean, with Jared.”

 

Evan let the air leave his lungs, and forced them to stay empty.

 

“That was, amazing, I’ve never seen anyone do that, especially not for that guy,”

 

Evan breathed.

 

“Like, not enough people stand up to guys like that, and no one stands up to Jared. You did good, I wish I’d thought of it.”

 

“Uh, thanks.”

 

James eyes fell on his arm,

“No ones signed your cast?”

 

“No- they uh, no.”

 

“Can I?”

 

“Sure, I mean, if you want.”

 

James pulled a sharpie from his bag,

he signed his name near the elbow, adding a little smiley face at the end.

 

A bell sounded over the intercom,

James reached over to flush the toilet.

“Hey, are you good to go to class, or?”

 

Evan nodded following James to stand,

“Yeah, I’m good, and, thanks for this.”

 

James smiled,

“Anytime, see you around, Evan.”

 

“See you,”

Evan waved as the boy disappeared into the crowded hallways.

 

Maybe today wouldn’t be terrible after all.

 

There were still six and a half hours to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave Evan a friend, this is going to be a very slow burn by the way.  
> Hope you enjoyed, see you next time.


	2. Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!  
> Rehearsals ran late last night, I’ll try to keep more consistent in the future.  
> Enjoy.
> 
> **WARNING**  
> Suicidal thoughts  
> Swearing
> 
> ———  
> My apologies to anyone who read this before I remembered to add warnings, I promise I won’t make that mistake again.

For the first time, Evan felt eyes on him.

The stares were piercing, the whispers screamed in his head.

 

A boy Evan hadn’t seen before grinnedin his direction,

“FREAK.”

He bellowed.

People laughed.

 

 

Evan flinched.

 

He’d seen others undergo this treatment before, even forced out a barking laugh at the sight.

 

His stomach twisted.

 

 

Evan hated himself more than he ever had before.

 

He was late to his first period, his stomach hadn’t stopped clenching and flipping. He felt he would’ve had to make a break to the bathrooms if there were anything left in his stomach to lose.

 

He kept his head down, he clung to the walls of the hallways like a lifeline. Hunching his shoulders, he headed to second period. He was on time, filing in with the other students, few looked, no one laughed, he’d blended in.

 

He sat near the back of the class, a place sparsely drew the attention of other students. Which might’ve been his worst mistake that day.

 

Because the type who make a beeline for the furthest seat from the front, are usually the type who have something to hide.

 

Who in this school has more to hide than Connor Murphy?

 

Evan felt Connors gaze on him for the duration of the class. When he could, in his peripheral vision, he would catch a glimpse of that questioning stare, those glassed over eyes boring into him like a drill press.

 

His shoulder muscles pulled tight, the entire class, waiting for a comment to come from the other boy and his empty stare.

 

When the class ended Evan stood shakily and left briskly, forcing down how unnerved he felt in favour of moving through the halls. He passed his locker on the way, pretending he hadn’t noticed the slur scrawled on its surface in permanent marker.

 

“Did you hear what he said? What an asshole.”

A girl whispered loudly to a friend,

“I know right? Such a killjoy, I guess someone had to defend his freaky little boyfriend.”

The boy whispered back.

 

They laughed together as they passed Evan.

He could imagine Jared planning that performance perfectly, which didn’t make it sting any less.

 

“Oh my god!”

A boy gawked at his phone screen,

“Look what El just sent me!”

He turns the screen to his two friends.

 

They laughed,

“Seriously?”

One questioned,

 

The first one nodded,

“He spent the whole class staring at him, what a fucking creep.”

The boy paused, considering the information,

 

“Do you think he’s into him?”

 

“Eww!”

The last one blurted, scrunching his face as if the other had insinuated something repulsive.

“That’s disgusting, man!”

 

“Just saying, we have no idea what that freak is into—“

 

“Dude he’s right there.”

One stage whispered.

 

Evan stopped listening, he walked hastily to the exit to find a quiet place outside to sit for the lunch period.

 

The day passed in a slow crawl, he never saw Jared in the crowds of students that had latched onto Evans story.

 

Part of him wondered if Jared was happy like this. He had the perfect defence, anyone who stood to him was automatically put in their place by the social hierarchy.

 

He had to be, being constantly protected, Evan would’ve given an arm and a leg for something resembling what he had.

 

Who was he kidding? He would’ve given his life, he’d proven it once before. It was starting to feel appealing again. He looked down at his cast. Maybe this time he wouldn’t fail, fail, fail, fail, he’d failed at every step of his life, if he tried he’d just fail again.

 

He fitted his earphones into his ears and tried to forget the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a little short, sorry, I’m sure the next one will be longer. Have a good night guys.


	3. Flames are Rising in the East

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**  
> Smoking  
> Self-deprecation

He felt numb.

He wished he had felt sick, or angry, or even had an ember of annoyance to spare.

Jared had nothing, just a feeling of complete sedation, overtaking any rational thought with wave after wave of a suffocating emptiness.

 

He stood leaning against the side of a ramp at the old skate park, letting billowing clouds of smoke pour from his lungs.

 

Aside from the nicotine itself, watching that swirling haze mingle with the air was mesmerizingly relaxing.

 

Soon, the park’s seemingly constant scent of marijuana was replaced with that of several burning cigarettes.

 

Although Jared could bet on the fact that the weed smell would be back in a few hours, it was satisfying to feel he’d made some sort of mark someone else could find.

 

Which was probably what the graffiti artists had thought when they had decorated this place with brightly coloured bursts of design. Even so, Jared preferred the park to be painted, covering the dull grey concrete, it added a sense of character.

 

Jared frowned, Evan Hansen.

The boy had been following him since early on, and now? Something changed his mind. Something to do with Mr.Marylyn Manson.

 

 _Or_ _maybe_ _he_ _finally_ realized _what_ _a_ _worthless_ _asshole_ _you_ _are_.

 

He stomped the cigarette butt into the concrete, a soft trail of smoke spluttering out before fading.

 

No, it had to be that guy, the long haired asshole.

 

When had this all gone so sideways?

He knew exactly when, seventh grade, he was tired of people having the power to speak one sentence and make his world would crumble. He was tired of fear and doubt, he wanted something stable. So he’d thought, fuck it, if they want to play it that way, then we’ll play it that way, he’d finally let that snarky voice in his head take over.

 

It started off small, a few bullies reputations tarnished, a few laughs when he picked some kid out of the crowd to turn his gossiping wolves on. It was the strongest he’d ever felt.

 

When he hit high school, he’d thought he’d need to start from scratch, build upevery defence from the ground up, he couldn’t have been more wrong. The people he’d surrounded himself with the years prior, gravitated to him like ants to sugar.

 

If he could go back, he would change it all. Even if it meant getting his ribs kicked in every day, being pray, he would hand it over for anything resembling a real friend.

 

Evan was nothing near a friend, he was obedient, a blank slate, he was the perfect follower. How Evan hadn’t gotten sick of him sooner, Jared would never know.

 

Evan started following him once enough people had joined the chorus that one more would go unnoticed. Jared asked to plagiarize a paper he’d forgotten about, Evan handed it over wordlessly. Since that day, in eighth grade, Evan had slid his homework into Jared’s hand every other morning, Jared would return everything just before first period. He’d stopped thanking Evan years ago.

 

Now here they were, first week of senior year, and Evan decided today of all days was the last.

 

If Jared was honest, he hoped Evan got what he wanted. He hoped Evan toppled his throne so he wouldn’t have to. Maybe then he could feel real again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that bit of Jared angst, see you soon.


	4. She Worried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings today.  
> Happy long weekend, I hope you have ice cream and its amazing. I put chocolate sauce on mine and had a good time before I remembered I’m lactose intolerant. 
> 
> Have fun.

Most of Zoe’s life was centred around her brother.

Weather it was a family vacation missed due to an arrest, or another yelling match between her family members, there was always something disrupting her daily routine. He wasn’t always directly involved, but any violent situation in her life could almost always be traced back to Connor.

 

So naturally, Zoe worried when a week of school passed, and nothing insane happened.

 

Connor missed one school day, one. Which gained a little grumbling from her dad at most.

 

She worried because this could mean nothing good. A person doesn’t just cease to be angry. A flame doesn’t go out unless it burns out, or the wind blows too hard, or some external force puts it out.

 

Connor wouldn’t be able to set aside his anger for long, there were only one possibility, as Zoe saw it: This was the calm before the storm, and soon Connor would turn to something drastic and wind up behind bars again.

 

So she braced herself.

 

Her eyes came into focus. She’d been staring blankly into the salad bowl for a while now, apparently. She vaguely registered a voice speaking off to her left, it took even longer to realize that voice wasn’t her internal monologue.

“Huh?” She asked dumbly.

 

“I _said_ ,”

Her father grumbled,

“can you pass the chicken?”

 

“Oh, yeah.”

She mumbled, reaching for the plate and passing it to her dad.

 

She caught her mother’s eye from across the table. There was a look of fear Zoe couldn’t place.

 

“ _So_ ,”

her mom spoke reluctantly,

“We’re heading up to your grandparents for the weekend.”

 

Zoe winced, she’d hoped to meet with her tutor on Sunday.

 

A loud ‘ _SLAM_ ’ tore everyone’s attention to Connor. Her mom gasped.

 

They’d have to video chat with her grandparents shitty WiFi.

 

“ _CONNOR_.”

Larry warned.

 

Her brother picked his head up from where it had landed on the table’s wooden surface.

 

Zoe, however fast her heart was beating, had to force down a smirk.

 

Cynthia placed a gentle hand on her husbands arm.

She sighed.

“It will only be one night this time.”

 

Connor’s empty expression didn’t change, it hadn’t for a few days now.

 

 

 

That night, when Zoe retreated to her room, she’d heard a soft ‘ _thud_ ’ of something heavy hitting the grass outside. She didn’t have to look to know Connor had once again leapt from his window. She’dwondered if he’d care if he broke his ankle doing that. She’d wondered if he’d be home by the morning, she doubted it.

She braced herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See ya later.


	5. Much too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Evan Hansen,  
> Turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year, because why would it be?
> 
> I know. Because of the thing with Connor. All my hope was pinned on that one moment. I pinned it all on Connor, who I don’t even know, and who doesn’t know me. Maybe if I could help other people, help them stand up for themselves. Maybe nothing would be different.  
> Maybe it would go exactly how it went with Connor. I wish it had changed something.
> 
> I wish I was apart of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone, I wish it could matter to Connor. 
> 
> I mean, face it: would anyone care if I disappeared tomorrow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had three tests to study for and I still can’t do Math for shit. I hope you enjoy this chapter, cause I have an eight AM class today and I wrote this instead of sleeping.  
> **WARNING**  
> Panic! at the Evan  
> Swearing
> 
> Ps. Fuck exclamation points! They make intimidating sentences look like they were written by my mom! Have a good day sweetie! You’re awesome! I’m sure you did amazing! Fucking fuckity fuck fuck!

Evans stomach stabbed at itself. He found the twisting cramps that came with an empty stomach grounding.

 

It stopped it from doing a backflip every time someone looked him in the eye. From going skydiving without a parachute whenever that person was Connor Murphy.

 

It grounded him similarly to how his burning eyelids could.

 

It was hard for his head to start spinning when there was a constant pain keeping him where he was, in the present.

 

If he was sleep deprived enough for his eyelids to burn, he was probably too out of it to string together a coherent thought.

 

So now, in the present, sitting in an empty library, standing face to face with Connor Murphy, who had definitely been talking for a while now, all he could think was: Wow, he’s tall.

 

He had a good four inches above Evans head.

 

“...pull shit like that all the time? I’m not saying it wasn’t cool or anything, blah-blah-blah. Why would you risk blah-blah bullshit blah-blah-blah random asshole?”

 

Editing courtesy of Evans delirious state. In his defense, he kept slipping into:

Wow, his hair is nice, he looks really pale, did he skip breakfast too?

Huh, there’s a little bit of brown in his eye, neat. “Are you just going to keep starring at me like a freak?” His face is pointy.

 

Evan mumbled something extremely intelligent like:

“Uhhmm hi, are you? I mean how’re you? I’m uhhhh, yeah.”

 

“Are you fucking high?”

Connor furrowed his eyebrows.

 

“What? No. I just, I yeah, not really sleeping a lot, kinda spacey, sorry.”

 

“So, you didn’t catch anything I said before?”

 

Evan swallowed thickly,

“Uh, no, I didn’t, sorry.”

 

Connor sighed harshly,

“Well now that I’ve managed to grab your attention,”

Connor spat,

“why the fuck did you make a scene with Klienman if it wasn’t to get people to call me a f*g?”

 

Evan shrunk in on himself. His hands grew clammy as his heart rate pieced together what his sluggish brain could collect.

 

He opened his mouth to speak, the air suddenly seemed thinner, he choked.

 

As he struggled for anything to focus on other than Connor, he noticed a paper in his shaking fist, he’d half crushed it in his conniption.

 

Evans knees shook.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I, sorry.”

He rushed.

 

“Yeah sure you are, freak. I came to give you your fucking letter. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ now I know it’s some shit you left for me to find, how many times is my name on this? Five? Six? You’re just as much of a dick as that Klienman kid.”

 

Evans head spun, he barely registered Connors retreating footsteps.

 

Suddenly he was alone, struggling for air, black splotches decorating his vision.

 

He doesn’t know how long he stood there, letting tears fall, losing the battle to stay upright and eventually collapsing onto his knees in the middle of the linoleum floors.

 

He curled in on himself, he tried to focus on his stomach, on his eyes. It wasn’t enough.

 

He gasped and sobbed until the room stopped spinning, until he found it in himself to stand, to walk himself home, he couldn’t handle a bus right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> I would’ve put his thoughts in italics but it’s not working for some reason so we’ll have to live with this.  
> See ya.


	6. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I have an Amino now, met some great people 7/10 would recommend.
> 
> **BIG WARNING**  
> Suicide attempt (not a graphic description)

Silent tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t move, could barely speak. She wished her stomach had been weaker, then maybe she could empty it of every overwhelming feeling that had flooded her system. A doctor was speaking. She hoped she would speak louder, the woman’s voice was drowned by the ringing in Zoe’s ears.

 

Zoe had never felt so helpless. She curled in on herself, tugging a weighted blanket around her shoulders.

 

She’d seen it coming a mile off. She expected an outburst, she expected to find him passed out on his bedroom floor, drunk, or high, not _this_.

 

She hadn’t found him. A girl in a grey hoodie had. The girl hadn’t said more than a few words to the doctors before disappearing.

 

After hours, they were allowed in Connors room. The smell of hand sanitizer was strong enough to make her head spin. Her brother lay in a hospital bed, only his face was visible beneath this white sheets. His skin was disturbingly sallow, it had taken on an almost green hue. Dark hair contrasted the paleness of his face.

 

She would’ve felt more nauseated if that were even possible.

 

She couldn’t bring herself to move, she just let tears roll down her face. She felt pressure against her back and leaned into it, her mothers arms wrapped around her midriff.

 

“He’ll be okay honey, the doctors said he’ll be okay,”

Her voice quavered.

 

Zoe turned to wrap her mom in a hug, soon her shoulder felt damp, she hugged her tighter.

 

“We’ll be home together in a few weeks honey, we’ll be okay.”

Her mother sobbed.

 

Connor would be sent away, of course, for thousands of dollars. She couldn’t help but think Connor would’ve hated the idea.

 

She doesn’t remember how long she stood in her mothers arms, Larry watching blankly from a chair. His gaze hadn’t moved from the floor.

 

How could they recover from this.

Even if it were possible, it would feel wrong. This was all so _wrong_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodnight guys.  
> Stay safe.


	7. When the Tree Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**  
> Suicide attempt, not a detailed description.
> 
> I’ll have a longer chapter out soon, basically a continuation of this one. I’ll try to keep any OC chapters short and to the point. I know you just want to see the DEH characters (I would). They’re simply there to progress the story. Enjoy.

_Connor_ _Murphy_.

 

She repeated the name like a mantra in her head. She was probably the closest thing to a friend the boy ever had.

Alex was a high school student, a fast food employee, and a drug dealer. She’d come to think of it as just another title, an occupation.

 

Connor had been buying from Alex and smoking with her for three years now. She’d seen him at his worst. Or so she’d thought.

 

She knew he was suicidal. Hell, so was she. It felt like they had the same terminal illness, any day could be their last.

 

She’d always told herself, if Connor goes, then I’ll follow. Still, watching him fall hurt. Like a tree that fell in a forest and hit her. She always knew it’d happen eventually, she just couldn’t step out of the firing line.

 

“Connor.”

She called to him.

Three in the morning, in the middle of a field.

“Connor look at me.”

She held him in her arms by the elbows, his head kept falling to his chest.

“Stay awake man, what did you take, tell me Connor.”

 

She reached into his pocket, Robaxin.

 

So she called poison control, she called an ambulance, and she’d saved a life.

 

She looked for a note, of course she had, he always told her if he had a note he wouldn’t want his parents reading it, only his sister Zoe, and Alex herself.

 

Her hand brushed a battered paper, swallowing hard she’d pulled it from his pocket.

 

_Dear_ _Evan_ _Hansen_.

She tucked it into her own grey sweater. She’d read it later.

 

She’d answered the doctors questions, she’d been the first to stand by his bed, before his family arrived.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t— you didn’t want this, I’m sorry, but I, fuck— I care about you, you moron.”

 

She blinked back her tears, laughing harshly,

“I fucking care.”

 

She reached forward, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, “I’ll see you another time, Con man.”

 

She pulled the note from her sweater.

 

“Now who the fuck is Evan Hansen, and what does any of this mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one, I’ll see you next time.


End file.
